Two Wayward Daughters
by ShatteredSnowflake
Summary: Claire has a hard time sleeping. Alex isn't sleeping too well either. A short, slightly fluffy one shot of Jody's girls, of how mutual tolerance slowly grows into something much more. (This one is for my new OTP - CLALEX! :D)


In the middle of the night, Claire woke with a jolt. She lay there in the dark, breathing heavily, her bed sheets twisted around her legs, her hands clutched tightly into fists, as the images raced through her head.

She saw her mother, as she had been before, years before, before everything: pushing Claire on the swing, young and carefree, her face turned toward Claire's father as she laughed at something he had said. Her father. Smiling gently and kindly at his beloved wife and daughter as he led them in grace at the dinner table. Her second "father". Randy. Lying dead on the floor in a puddle - no, an ocean - of his own blood. The one who was not her father at all. Castiel. Wearing her father's face as he turned away from her on the doorstep of their house, his voice low and self-righteous as he said, "I am not your father."

Claire buried her face in her pillow, trying to shut it out, shut it all out: all the memories of all the pain and loneliness and loss and blood… All the memories that she feared she could never leave behind. The memories she felt would haunt her forever…

A scream pierced through Claire's hopeless thoughts, slicing through the stillness of the night like a knife.

Throwing off her covers, Claire jumped out of bed, grabbing the blade from under her pillow as she went, racing out of her room and down the hallway in mere seconds. With Jody away at a cop convention, there was only one other person it could be.

Alex's door was slightly ajar, and Claire could hear continued whimpering coming from inside the room as she approached.

Heart pounding, Claire pushed open the door to see Alex -

Asleep.

She let out a huge sigh of relief. Alex's eyes were closed, her jet-black hair spread out across her pillow. But though she was no longer screaming, still, she tossed and turned in her bed, letting out a whimper or a "no..." every now and then. Still, the sight of Alex lying there, safe and sound, was more of a comfort to Claire than she would have liked to admit.

As she stood there in the doorway, Claire's relief gave way to exhaustion, and she fell against the doorpost, letting her eyes close for a moment as she stood there.

"Claire?"

Claire opened her eyes with a start. Alex had sat up in bed, and was looking at her quizzically, her eyes half-closed as if she were still dreaming, as if, perhaps, she thought that this too was merely a dream.

"Claire," Alex mumbled, "What - what are you... doing here?" She was wearing a blue tank top, Claire noticed, the exact same shade as her eyes. She could see slivers of their brilliant color from under the other girl's lids, even in the dim light. Claire also found herself noticing other things: how white and perfect and vulnerable the curve of Alex's neck looked in the dark, how her waterfall of dark hair framed her face, falling over her shoulders and down her back in a shiny wave, how much fragility there was in her face in this moment, tilted up towards Claire.

Claire turned away. She didn't know exactly what she was feeling, but it confused her. Besides, with the way Alex usually acted towards her during the day, there was no way the other girl could feel the same way about her. "Uh... nothing," she said hastily, backing away. "I was just, um, leaving..." She turned to go.

"Wait." Alex's voice was quiet, but Claire could hear her clear as day. She'd know that voice anywhere. "Stay," Alex whispered.

Claire hesitated, then stepped back into the room, her heart racing. "Are you sure?"

Though she still appeared to be half asleep, Alex did seem sure of what she wanted as she nodded, not taking her eyes off Claire as she did. She patted the bed next to her. "Stay," she repeated softly.

So Claire did. Slowly, she climbed into bed next to Alex. Alex lay back down, and Claire joined her, lying beside her, realizing as she did so that Alex was still shaking, shivering from whatever horrors she had been dreaming about, images of blood and darkness no doubt. As if in a dream, Claire put her arms around Alex, holding her tight. She could hardly believe she was doing so, but once she did, it felt so right that she could have no more doubts at all, especially when Alex relaxed into her arms, burrowing her head deeper into her embrace.

A single tear traced its way down Claire's cheek. She closed her eyes, letting herself relax as well, letting herself let go, let go of everything, all the pain and all the blood fading away inside their little bubble of calm...

And so they held each other in the darkness, two wayward daughters holding onto each other tightly until the storm passed.


End file.
